


Stop saying you're not gay, we can all tell.

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Abigail is mom, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, Pegging, Sexual Orientation, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Abigail caves and beds Murderface. Murderface discovers a little something about himself.





	

It began with an idea. Sexual frustration was a common cause of work problems. And Murderface, a sexually-deprived and touch-starved man of his age, never fucking did anything. Which was almost as frustrating as his inability to get women. Abigail generally preferred women, though there were some men she'd be willing to hook up with. Hell, Skwisgaar might've been her type if he wasn't so... himself all the time. Regardless of Abigail's preferences, anyone of any sexuality or taste would be able to see that curing the bassist's problem may very well increase his productivity. And Abigail believed in work efficiency more than any sexual labels.

So that's how she ended up sitting on an overexcited Murderface's bed, staring at his pudgy body and watching him awkwardly shamble out of his clothes. Part of her said this was wrong, as Murderface was almost like a son to her, but her work ethic overpowered her emotions. This was just a job.

"Scho, uh, y-you ready? I ain't done thisch in awhile." He scratched the back of his head. "Might be a li'l ruschty..."

"It's fine." She really didn't care if she enjoyed it. In the end this was equivalent to paperwork. (Very chubby, very hairy, very loud paperwork.) "Now hold still and don't go anywhere." Her fingers fiddled with the hook of her bra, which she occasionally described as a "chest-squeezing hell device". Honestly if it was healthy to travel braless, she'd do it without question. Murderface stared like he'd never seen a boob in his life, which considering his track record, wouldn't shock Abigail in the slightest.

"Wait."

She paused, with her fingers around the waist of her panties.

"What is it?"

"C-can you, uh..." He coughed. "...Nevermind."

"No, no, it's fine. Just tell me."

"I, uh... I can't get off 'nlessch I have schometh'n... in muh butt."

"...Oh, you want me to peg yo--"

"Don't schay it too loud!... I'm gonna get laughed at..."

"It's fine. Do you have anything?"

"I got a d..." He swallowed. "I got a thing in my underwear drawer." Abigail cocked a brow. (Was he seriously too insecure with his sexuality to say the word 'dildo'?) Silently she got up, rummaging through his top drawer. And holy shit, he had dildos of every size, shape and color. Obnoxiously, he didn't have a harness or anything like that, but Abigail shrugged it off. She'd just stick it in him and piston it with her bare hands. As long as he got off it'd be fine. She went for a nice little purple one, very detailed and solid with a nice texture, about 7 inches.

"Lube."

"Should be in the schame drawer."

Abigail blinked, going back into the drawer and finding a bottle of water-based lubricant beneath the endless piles of dicks. "Yeah, that. And, uh... Don't bother with preparation, juscht fuck me, pleasch, thank you." He shoved his face into a pillow, pulling his knees up to be parallel to his hipbones. 

"...Okay then." She'd never really done anything anal-related. Of course she had considered giving it to Nathan once or twice when he wouldn't quit bothering her, it never really crossed her mind as much more than a fantasy. So she slathered lube on her hands, rubbing it against Murderface's asshole and gently slipping a few fingers in and out, causing a few soft whimpers to exit his mouth. "Do you like, do this every single day?"

"N-no!"

"Whatever you say, I'm sticking it in." The curved head passed the rim, and his uneven nails dug into the sheets, back arched upward and face shoved deeper into the pillows to muffle his whines. Another few inches of silicon and he was moaning like a dog. "Does it hurt? You alright?"

"More." There wasn't much length remaining. Abigail was amazed that he could seriously take 7 inches of fake dick without so much as a complaint. "Ohhhgoood..." Then she gave it a pull, and a push. It was like playing on a seesaw, except... you know, in someone's ass. Of course she paused to switch hands now and then so she wouldn't get carpal tunnel, which led to Murderface pathetically whining and Abigail having to tell him to wait for two stupid seconds.

"Does this feel alright?"

"Nnhnn." He groaned. "Harder."

"Okay, okay." And harder she went. He was practically grinding his ass against her gripping hand, and she almost thought that he was kinda cute. However she hastily swept the feeling away. (Of course she found him cute in this position, she fucking loved submissive men.) 

"I-I'm gonna... I'mgunna... hah... fuck..."

"Go ahead."

Within a moment, his back arched into a downwards curve, head tilted towards the ceiling and expression riddled with a wild bliss. He was shaking and clawing at the pillows, tongue rolling out as he said the one word. The one solitary word... er, name.

_**"Shit, Toki!"** _

Ah. So... that's what the issue was.

As he came all over the blankets, Abigail withdrew the toy and stared at him for a moment. His whole body had gone limp and he was out cold in a puddle of his own sperm and drool. She reached out, and then pulled back for a moment, putting her underwear on and beginning to leave. But no, she had to. After all, he needed to wash off all the sweat. She shook his shoulder as hard as she could.

"Murderface." He groaned, batting her hand away. "Murderface, you need a bath."

"No."

"Come on, you can sleep afterwards. I'm not letting you pass out in your own cum." Luckily, Abigail was pretty strong, and managed to haul Murderface out of bed and onto his feet, slowly walking his half-conscious body into the bathroom and running some warm water. The two of them sat on the floor, waiting in awkward silence. Murderface's eyes were buried deep into his knees as he curled up by a wall. "...So it's Toki, huh."

"W-what?! No! I'm not gay! It wasch a schlip of the tongue!"

"I'm not angry with you. It's okay."

"It ain't okay!... 'sch grossch..." He hung his head once more. "Everyone'll hate me." Shit, Abigail wasn't good with feelings. (That was more Pickles' department.) But she did know one thing about Murderface -- he was fucked-up from day one. No doubt living in a Christian family in Georgia warped his sense of what's okay and what isn't. Not to mention his relationship with Magnus didn't alleviate any of that pain in the slightest.

"Hey, it's fine."

"I'm fucking schick. I thought that I could fixsch it if I hooked up with you, but I can't, I should juscht kill myschelf." His back shuddered and heaved with heavy, gut-wrenching sobs. "Everyone wasch right, I am a schmelly queer."

"...Hey, you know what? I heard Toki is bi."

Murderface shot upwards.

"H...he isch?"

"Yeah. Don't be too awkward and you might have a good chance with him."

"...He'sch gonna hate me."

"Probably... uh, probably not." That wasn't very reassuring. (For fuck's sake, she was a producer, not a goddamn couples therapist.)

"Probably?"

"Definitely."

"...'m schcared."

"I'll help you."

Now he was crying again, and immediately latched onto Abigail, burying his face in her chest. Abigail sighed, running her fingers through his fluffy hair. "There there. It's alright. Everything's fine, nobody's mad at you... it's all good."

"...I loved him schinsche we firscht met." He was just barely coherent. "I wasch schcared. I don't..."

"Come on, get in the bathtub." She flicked the faucet off. "I can tell you that Toki loves the smell of shampoo."

"All I got isch horsche shampoo."

"It'll do."

Murderface gave her a nervous smile, crawling into the warm water and washing himself off before falling asleep in the tub. Abigail sighed, hauling him back out and toweling him off. He must've been really tired. Thank god she was on the hammer-throw team in high school, as she was able to finally drag him back to bed and tuck him in. "G'night."

When the bassist woke hours and hours later, he got out a pen and some paper. He had a letter to write.

-

"Abigails! I gots a letters!"

"Oh really?" Toki was grinning at the meeting table.

"It says. 'Dear'... Oh, dis handwritings am hards to reads." He squinted. "'Dear Tokis. I likes you. I would likes to goes outs on a date somestimes. Be in you's rooms at 8 PMs if you ams intersected."

"I think it says interested."

"Oh! Interested. Sincerelies, you's secrets admirers." He giggled like a schoolgirl. "Amn'ts it romantics? I can't waits to finds out who it ams! Finallies, Toki ams gon's to gets a real long-terms date! I's so happies I could implodes from de happies-ness!"

"I think I have a few ideas as to who it could be."

"Really? Whos?"

Abigail stared towards Murderface's bedroom door in the hall for a moment. It hadn't opened a single time all day. He must've been working really, really hard. 

"I can't tell you. It'd ruin the surprise."

"Aw, jeez, Abigails... you's pullin's my chains real hards..." He whined, flopping back against his chair. "You t'inks it ams a Klokateer? A guys or a girls? Does dey likes kissin's?"

"Toki, I'm not going to play 20 Questions with you right now." She patted his head. "But I bet you it's someone real good."


End file.
